


Martian Death Plague

by The_Word_Arranger



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:58:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1519976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Word_Arranger/pseuds/The_Word_Arranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keeler is sick. Encke is tired. Puck believes that fire is the answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Martian Death Plague

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t mean to disappear for so long! Here’s a cute little story to keep you company while I work on something longer that refuses to be written at anything but its own pace.
> 
> In this story, I have borrowed A2MOM’s name and back-story for Cassius, and her amazing OC Puck. I promise to put them back where I found them. 
> 
> I spent a lot of time working on the dialogue in this story. It’s definitely my weakest area in writing so constructive criticism is welcome.
> 
> All love to HamletMachine!

Years in the service gave Encke the ability to come instantly awake. He could be up and moving before he was even completely conscious, his body figuring that his brain would eventually catch on to whatever emergency was happening. Halfway into his flight suit though, he realized that the scramble alarm was not going off and that Keeler was, in fact, still asleep. He sat there for a moment, confused and wondering what the hell kind of noise could have woken him with enough volume to think they were under attack. He was about to reach over and shake Keeler awake to ask if he heard it too, when Keeler gave another sneeze to blow out an airlock and mumbled unhappily in his sleep. 

Oh.

Encke watched unhappily as Keeler rolled over and buried his head in Encke’s pillow, sniffling. 

Joy. 

Ten thousand years of evolution to avoid sickness went into battle against his desire to sleep in the bed. He finally shrugged, figured that he was probably already doomed and crawled back into bed, shucking his flight suit onto the floor. He flipped his pillow over to the un-contaminated side and pulled Keeler’s shivering body against his. He sighed wearily before tucking Keeler’s sweaty head up under his chin and going back to sleep.

***

Encke had heard once that one of the most remarkable things a body can do is fight off an illness. Waking up with Keeler drooling and snotting on his t-shirt, Encke reflected that it was also one of the grossest. He extricated himself from the grip of his snotopotamus lover, and watched as Keeler wiped his face in Encke’s pillow. Encke made a mental note that the pillow was Keeler’s now, a civilian casualty in Keeler’s microbial war, and went to take a shower. 

Not enough sleep and the prospect of a sick flight partner gave Encke a predictable ‘fuck this’ attitude. First it was ‘fuck waiting for hot water’ and now he was freezing, and later it would be ‘fuck putting on socks with wet feet.’ Right now though, it was all ‘fuck washing my hair, fuck shampoo, fuck shampoo in my eyes!” 

He rubbed his smarting eyes and nearly had a heart attack when he opened them to see Keeler standing in the head looking like the angel of death warmed over. He swayed alarmingly and Encke jumped out of the shower, grabbing a towel as he went. 

“Keeler?”

“Mhm.. think that’s me.”

“Keeler, you can’t even stand up, go back to bed. How many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Seven, on one hand.” Keeler peered up at him through his tangled bangs with slightly crossed eyed. “Ooh you’re doing that trick where you grow extra heads again like when I was drunk…I need to lie down now.” 

Encke swore as Keeler made to do that right on the bathroom floor and Encke dropped the towel in favor of not dropping Keeler. He poured Keeler back into bed and left him there to stare vacantly at the ceiling while he went to put up his towel and hastily dress. Fuck putting on socks with wet feet! He spent a few minutes trying to find a box of tissues, but in accordance with the laws of the universe, there were no tissues to be had and he came back with an extra roll of toilet paper instead. 

Keeler was on his back with the covers pulled up so that only his eyes and the top of his head were visible. “I think,” he mumbled slowly, “that I might be just the teensiest bit sick.”

No shit Sherlock. “Yeah, kinda noticed baby. I’ll let Cook know not to expect you today. Make sure you drink some fluids. There’s a water bottle under the bed and I’ll grab some more tea bags from the mess.” 

Encke sat down on the side of the bed and leaned over to give Keeler a gentle kiss on the forehead, feeling the heat there.

“Thanks Encke. I love you, even if you do have four and a half eyes right now,” Keeler slurred softly before falling asleep.

Encke spared a few moments to wonder what four and a half eyes looked like before tapping out a message to Commander Cook and leaving to face his day.

***

Forty- five minutes later, Encke sat at his desk trying to figure out why it smelled like a fruit basket in his office. He hadn’t noticed the smell right away because it had been masked by the scent of burnt coffee, but the coffee was cold now and the room smelled like apricots. He peered suspiciously under his desk, hoping for an answer. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but it had to go; it was distracting and making him think of Keeler for some reason. 

He was sniffing inside the top drawer of his desk when his assistant Cassius came in. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, this was not even close to the most compromising position Cassius had caught him in, so rather than wasting time being embarrassed, Encke sought out his second’s help.

“Hey Cass, you smell that? Smells like fake fruit but I can’t figure out where the hell it’s coming from.”

Cassius obligingly took a moment to sniff around the room. Encke watched as Cassius cocked his head to the side in thought and then failed to hide an amused smile.

“Sir?” Cassius said. “I think it’s you. More specifically, I think it’s your head.”

“Why the fuck would my head smell… like… apricots?” Encke’s speech slowed as realization dawned. Encke rubbed his short hair and sniffed his hand. Yup, smelled like the bottle of scented body wash Keeler bought on shore leave last week. No wonder it reminded him of Keeler. 

“Grab the wrong bottle in the shower this morning, sir?”

“How the fuck did you figure that one out Cass?”

Cassius shrugged. “Been there, done that. Just wait until you have kids. Nothing builds a rep like going to boot camp with Hello Kitty band aids on because you’re too tired to pay attention to what box you grab.”

Encke snorted a laugh through his nose at that mental image. “Hah. Guess I am tired. Keeler is pretty sick and he kept me awake half the damn night. Seems like every time we go on shore leave, he comes back with some weird bottle of something for his hair and whatever local disease is popular at the time. Anyway, you have those forms for me?”

“Got them right here, sir.” Cassius handed Encke a stack of data tablets. “Just make sure you get them to Puck when you’re done with them. It’ll give him something to do to keep him out of trouble while Keeler is sick.”

***

Puck wasn’t at his desk when Encke went to hand in the tablets several hours later. He heard noise coming from Keeler’s office though, and when he stuck his head around the door, he found Puck wearing a face mask and a pair of rubber gloves. He was armed with a large bottle of rubbing alcohol. And a lighter.

“The hell Puck?”

“Oh, hey Encke. Just leave those tablets on my desk out there. I’ll get to them when I finish decontami, uh cleaning, yes cleaning Keeler’s office.” He picked up the bottle of rubbing alcohol and starting unscrewing the cap. 

Encke was fixated on the lighter. “Please tell me that you aren’t planning on setting fires in Keeler’s office, Puck.”

“But it’s the only way to kill all the germs!” Puck poured a liberal amount of rubbing alcohol over the top of the desk. “Keeler brought them back from shore leave and I don’t want to catch the martian death plague!” 

“Martian death pla… Hey!” Encke made a lunge for the lighter and pocketed it before Puck managed to light the rubbing alcohol on fire.

“Fine, have it your way. Just know that I’m licking any data tablets I send your way if I get sick.” He stomped off mumbling about giant Petri dishes and walking plague rats. Encke went back to his office and took the rubbing alcohol with him too, just in case. 

***

Encke dropped by his room on his lunch break to check on Keeler. He was still asleep, but the water bottle on the floor next to the bed was empty. Encke replaced it with a full one and put the banana he brought on the desk.

Encke spent a quiet moment studying Keeler’s sleeping face. He was beautiful even though his nose was red and his chest rattled as he breathed. What he told Cassius was true; every time they came back from shore leave, Keeler inevitably got sick and Encke was usually fine. Encke was no stranger to illness; growing up in the colonies wasn’t like Earth where the advanced genetic alterations that people possessed rendered them immune to most diseases. Keeler had almost never been sick as a child, but away from Earth and all the diseases he was designed to be immune to, he easily fell ill. Encke, with a lifetime of colds and other infections behind him fared much better out in the universe of germs. 

‘Kind of like The War of the Worlds except backwards,’ Encke thought. Then he remembered what Puck said. “Martian death plague my ass.” 

***

Returning to his room later that night after shift, Encke was a little alarmed to see the bed empty. He found Keeler asleep in the bathroom, his flushed face pressed into the cool floor tiles next to the toilet. Encke knelt down next to him and stroked his hair where it fell down his back in a messy braid. 

Keeler cracked one gummy eye open and licked his dry lips.

“Oh good, you’re back Encke. Please kill me. I think I’m dying anyways.”

“You’re not dying baby; you just have the flu or something.”

“’s not the flu; I got my influenza vaccine. ’s just some stupid virus. They’re not the same.” 

‘Too sick to get off the floor, but never too sick or tired to turn that brain off,’ Encke thought. He smiled as Keeler continued mumbling his lecture to the floor, and then rolled his eyes at himself as he fell a little more in love. 

“That’s nice baby. Do you want me to take you to medical or not?”

Keeler made a face at the suggestion. “If you do I will find the energy to barf in your boots when your back is turned.”

“Hey, you should be nice to me. I stopped Puck from setting your desk on fire.”

Keeler opened his mouth to ask about that, but leaned over and threw up instead.

“Never mind.” Keeler reached a shaking hand up to flush the toilet. “I don’t even want to know. Just take me back to bed.” 

*** 

Keeler’s stomach seemed to settle down after that, and he lay with his head in Encke’s lap and dozed while Encke read. When Encke put his tablet down and gently moved Keeler’s head so that he could undress for bed, Keeler opened his eyes and sighed. 

“I’m sorry that I always get sick after shore leave. It can’t be much fun for you to deal with me being barfy when you already have to go back to work to begin with.” 

“You don’t got to apologize to me baby.” Encke crawled back into bed and curled up behind Keeler, spooning him. He loved the man, but the breath was just too much right then. 

“Besides, I know you’re just doing it to get out of work so you can lie in bed all day. Didn’t we spend enough time in bed on shore leave?”

“Encke!”

“Ha ha, just kiddin’. I know you ain’t the type to barf for fun.” Encke gently stroked Keeler’s sore belly.

Keeler elbowed him in the ribs and huffed. “Yes, I spent lots of time in bed with you on shore leave and now I’m sick. Obviously I’m terribly allergic to you. I should make you sleep on the floor.”

Encke cuddled Keeler closer and tucked his knees up against Keeler so that Keeler could reach to warm his toes on Encke’s feet. 

“You’d get cold.”

“And lonely.” Keeler sighed and Encke started to drift off to sleep before Keeler spoke again. 

“Hey Encke, why does your head smell like apricots?”

“That’s just your fever makin’ you hallucinate baby. Go to sleep.”

“Oh. If you say so.” 

***


End file.
